The Heart-Shaped Key
by tufted
Summary: Molly wakes up every morning with half of her memory missing, yet finds nothing out of the ordinary. As ghosts from the past find their way into present day, she'll be forced to face what she once longed to remain hidden. The only question is, what?
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

The air is cold, and my breath hangs in the air as a cloud of condensation. The full moon hangs above the two of us and I feel invigorated by all of it. The wind whistles carelessly in the trees behind us and I shiver involuntarily.

My partner in crime feels it through our multitude of layers and turns his head towards me. "You okay?" he whispers softly as if it's taboo to do otherwise.

I nod my head a little too quickly but snuggle against him as a precaution anyway. The blanket beneath us has long since turned into what feels like a sheet of ice causing me to pull my knees up against my chest.

He lets out a low laugh that I can feel through his clothes and I'm glad that I'm not alone on a night like tonight. He wraps an arm around my thin shoulders and pulls me even closer.

"Do you know why we celebrate the moon?" he asks in a whisper.

A noise that comes out as a strangled no escapes my lips. For the umpteemth time that night, I'm grateful that he can't see the blush rising to color my cheeks- even if it does warm me.

I see the light reflect off of his face and he smiles a soft smile, "Well I shall tell you," he whispers dramatically.

I stifle a giggle, and wait expectantly.

"Long ago, there was a princess," he begins.

I breath in sharply because these are my favorite kind of stories and before I can stop myself I ask, "Was she pretty?" My voice echoes over the silver fields that lie seemingly forever in front of us and it feels like I've broken some sort of spell.

However, he doesn't seem perturbed. "Oh, she was gorgeous. White hair, like that of the snow and ice, rolled in waves down her back and her eyes were as sharp as ice and a wondrous shade of gray with flecks of blue. Porcelain skin that was unmarked by pox caught the attention of many a suitor. She was after all, to be queen when her parents passed on."

I nod completely enthralled, my eyes trained on his lips as the story falls out like a river over a waterfall.

"However, with that amount of beauty, power, and wealth comes great sacrifice. Her parents needed something to seal their newfound, if rocky relationship with a neighboring kingdom. The names of the kingdoms have long since been lost in translation."

Where did the princess play into this? Where was her true love? were the thoughts that echoed through my mind.

"In the following spring she was to be married to the prince of the neighboring kingdom. A rather pompous pansy, in her words- not mine," his smile made her feel warm inside as did their soft laugh they shared.

"What did he look like?" I breathed.

"The prince had hair as dark as night and eyes the color of rich brown velvet. Even with his good looks, he kept to his books and thought little of those beneath him. Much unlike the benevolent princess who had been christened Amara at birth," he pauses and for a split second I imagine myself as the princess. "The princess, was in love with someone else, a lowly merchant who only had his wits and affection to offer."

I draw in another sharp breath because I love the idea of true love. "What did he look like? How'd they meet? How much did he love her?" I ask all in the next breath.

His lips shine in the moonlight and I see them curl up in a smile. "Oh he was handsome in his own right. A flop of silver hair adorned his head as well as mismatched pair of eyes. While most thought of him as a freak, she thought of him as an unique individual. He loved her for all that she was and she loved him for all that he was."

I stared at his hair, silver that shone a ghostly white and thought of how his eyes slightly differed in color. Is he trying to place himself in the story? I thought to myself, before inwardly laughing because that was ridiculous.

"They met when the princess was young, on the night of her fifteenth birthday she snuck out of the castle. Celebration filled the streets as much as it filled the castle halls. It wasn't too hard to slip out, especially when half the guests were inebriated. With the help of a maid by the name of Elena, the princess slipped into clothes that were meant for those well below her stature. With only her wits and a knife from the kitchen for protection, she made her way to a quaint tavern. The owner had long-since kicked out the customers that had grown rowdy. Sitting by the fireplace she sipped a glass of tea and reveled in the fact that she was free for the rest of the night. That's where she met her true love, a man by the name of Hale. She impressed him with her esprit and she was impressed with the fact that he wasn't fazed when she informed him of her royal status. They continued to meet after that night in secret."

I started to feel tired, it was comfortable here lying next to his body with his arm around me.

"The problem only came up when she was to be engaged to the prince. She blatantly told her parents that she was engaged to someone else, as they had gotten engaged the year she turned seventeen, and wouldn't have anything to do with Mr. Prince Pompous. Outraged at her lack of discipline they condemned her to marry the prince and sentenced the poor merchant to death. His only crime- falling in love with the princess."

My breath caught in my throat as this story felt familiar somehow.

"Neither could stand the idea of their sentence. The princess managed to convince her maid Elena to help her one last time. The two of them stole into the dungeon and managed to elude the guards before breaking Hale free. Hugging Elena goodbye, for it was to be the last time they saw each other, the young lovers ran to where they hoped they could find refuge."

At this the story started losing it's familiarity and I shrugged off the deja vu feeling and continued to listen intently.

"At the Harvest Goddess' spring they asked for her help. She granted the young lovers wish as best she could. You see, their wish was to live together forever without the pressures of society. So the Harvest Goddess placed the princess in the moon and the merchant throughout the stars. That way when the moon is at it's fullest you may know that the princess is outright defying her parents in the name of love."

He finishes with a flourish and I sigh contentedly against him.

He turns to face me and whispers, "You're not falling asleep are you?"

I blush fiercely and reply through a yawn, "No, never."

He smiles cheekily and leans in close as if to kiss me before he stops. Taking his right arm, the one not around me, he touches the silver chain that hangs around my neck. Following it to where it rests he finds the silver, black, and white pendant that hangs on it. "Magic," he breathes hoarsely.

Suddenly I know what he's talking about, the Harvest Goddess hangs in my mind and I see the local witch adding her embellishment as well.

"Magic," he says again louder before grabbing the heart-shaped key and ripping it from my neck.

My neck feels oh so cold as if the necklace had provided some type of internal heat. So does the rest of my body. The silver light of the moon is gone, as is the moon, and the stars. Now only darkness remains and I'm falling fast into nothingness because the ground has given way to abyss.

* * *

**Author's Note: So this is going to be a long story and I hope you'll enjoy it. I'm going to be upfront on this, it's a GillxMolly story- Angela will have a short cameo but she won't be as important as she is in my Challenge... This scene is supposed to be vague, so I hope that's how it came off. It's also a dream sequence that just sets the stage for the story :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon**

******As always Reviews are appreciated. Constructive criticism and glowing reviews are beyond welcome. In the mood for flaming? Good luck- this is on your computer screen ;)**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

I awake, my sheets twisted in an unseemly fashion and groan. It had been one of those nights where one just can't fall asleep and when they finally manage to do just that, their dreams are littered with nightmares and they sleep lightly.

The sun shines through the window that resides above my, or rather, our bed. When I groggily open my eyes I see the shades have already been opened.

"Angela's up," I mumble to myself before stretching. Laying my head back onto the pillow in hopes of gaining just one more minute of sleep, I find myself awakened rather rudely. Angela decided that it would be an excellent decision to jump on me.

"I'm awake," I grumble flipping onto my back and staring up at her.

"Good," she smiles, her chocolate eyes sparkling with delight as she reaches down to tweak my nose. "I couldn't let my sister sleep in on the day that we graduate."

"Older sister," I chide her as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed.

She wrinkles her nose before quipping, "Just means I'm smarter."

"God, you're annoying this early in the morning," I sigh, stretching my arms in an upward motion.

"Don't start with me," she warns half-heartedly before taking charge. "Your outfit's over there, the make-up's already out, as is the curling iron-"

I cut her off with a glare, "Where's breakfast?"

"Here," she says shoving a bowl with a pop tart in it at my face.

"Um, okay?" I raise an eyebrow but she's already shoving me towards my outfit from behind.

I digress from questioning her and just change into the yellow sundress that's been laid out for me. An hour later in front of the vanity, she's somehow transformed both of us into a presentable fashion.

"There, now that's what I call fashion," Angela smiles as she finishes my lipstick.

I groan inwardly and through some sisterly connection we must share she glances at me with a disapproving look. I smile trying my best to act pleased, but I hate dressing up, so I don't know why she went to this great of length to do so.

"So, how'd you sleep last night?" I ask in hopes of diverting her attention away from my displeasure.

"Left the bed at midnight when you rolled over on top of me," she replies steadily while lacing up her high-heeled wedge sandals.

"Oh," I respond as I stand from the chair that I've been sitting in. Carefully moving so as not to interrupt her concentration, I move towards our bed. Squatting, I lift up the comforter on my side trying to find the white flats that I haven't worn since my 9th grade Homecoming.

Angela stands up from her work and walks over towards me. Tapping my shoulder she smiles impishly and shakes her head. "Don't you dare wear those scuffed up flats," she threatens.

I gulp and ask, "Then what do you expect me to wear?"

"These," she declares, holding up a pair of red high heels.

"I'd rather die," I announce dead serious.

"Steak knife's in the kitchen," she deadpans.

"Between the headband, polka-dotted belt and flower in my hair, those people'll think I was kidnapped and replaced with a look-alike."

"Exactly," she responds in a precise manner. "Now you'd better get into these if you want to be the driver, because heaven knows you can't stand when I drive."

I push myself up with my hands and take the ridiculous shoes from her. "I'll wear them, but not until I've safely parked. There's no way in hell I'm driving in those bloody things."

Angela just rolls her eyes before crossing her arms, "We're not British dearie," she pronounces in a fake British accent.

I exhale deeply before pushing her down the stairs and past the tenants on the floor below us.

She stops just before the car and turns to face me, "I can't believe we're graduating college."

"Oh, just get into the car," I exclaim in annoyance.

As both doors of the car are closed at the same time I turn to her, "Besides-"

She lets out a laugh, "Besides we could always further our College degree, a Bachelor is nothing compared to a Master."

I look at her in astonishment.

"Oh, please, don't look at me like I'm a complete bonehead, I do actually listen to you." I smile in victory as I put the SUV into reverse. It isn't until we reach the first stoplight that she adds, "Sometimes."

I scowl at her in an oblique glance but say nothing in response. It isn't until we reach the private college's auditorium and I'm in the stupid heels that I say anything. "I'll remember that," I comment dryly.

"I'm sure you will," is all she says before dragging me, because I'm stumbling at this point, into the building. The hallways are dimly lit, reminding me of a funeral. I can tell there's plaques on the walls, mostly due to the fact that I've been here before when it's actually lit, but can't read them to save my life. There's a light at the end of the tunnel, giving a whole new meaning to the saying, and when we both reach it, the auditorium is completely empty.

"Did we miss it?" Angela asks, her personality turning on a dime to panicked. "I know it said 12 but maybe it meant mid-"

"Really?" I question. "It's 10:30," I point out. "I know you brought something electronic in that purse of yours," I nod to her pale denim purse, "So we'll survive."

"What about you?" she asks suddenly concerned.

I send her a really? glance and calmly remind her that she is speaking to her older English major sister.

"So Kindle or Nook then?"

"How about a real book?" I ask before turning on my heel. "I have ten in the back of the car," I say as I wave my hand to motion for her not to worry.

When I return with a copy of a romance novel, I'm not entirely pleased with Angela. "So watcha reading?" she asks feigning innocence.

"You little-" I begin.

"You forgot to add that you double-majored in Agriculture," is all she says before turning back to her phone.

I'm irate, but I take a deep breath and flip to the first page in hopes of finding a good book. It's not- instead, I've wasted over an hour of my life leafing through a story with a formulaic plot, foreseeable twists, shallow characters, and the guy getting the girl.

"I hate you," is all I say before the ceremony begins.

She grins cheekily, "Love you too sis."

"I still hate you," I say after the ceremony ends.

"Still love you Ma-a-olly."

"My name's two syllables not four," I hiss under my breath as one of my friends comes up towards us.

"Da-um," is the response I get from Julia.

"Make-up and a pair of shoes is nothing extraordinary," I quip.

"But you sure make it look extraordinary," the blonde replies airily.

Angela glances between the two of us before motioning to her friends.

"Just don't get yourself killed," is my advice before turning back to Julia as she leaves.

"All the guys were looking," Julia smirks.

"No they weren't, they were staring at Fenwick the entire time hoping he didn't decide to fail anybody last minute."

Julia just shrugs her shoulders, but I can see in her blue eyes that she doesn't believe me. "Whatever, but may I be the first to offer you a congratulatory sundae?" she poses the question with a deep bow

I accept her offer with a deep curtsey and a hearty laugh, "Why yes you may Julia Saunders."

Her laugh that follows is light and reminds me of bells.

We walk the block and a half towards the local diner, after stopping to drop off our diplomas in our cars, all the while complaining about various things.

"She changed out my books with stupid trash," I say showing Julia the cover.

"My One And Only Prince," she nods thoughtfully for a split second before continuing, "I like it."

I scoff indignantly but she changes the subject anyway.

"So about you and your sister's outfits?"

"What about them?"

"Well, your sister sure looked cute in that coral sweater and pale denim capris."

I scoff again before replying, "My sister could make a potato sack look good."

Julia nods in agreement and from there we manage to switch gears to how brutal finals had been.

Reaching the diner that's labeled Lu & Carl's in an unceremonious fashion we enter and find it particularly empty. The floors are lined with black-and-white tiling like a checkerboard and silver stools sit below the counter. So of course, when we sit down the first thing that comes up is if I've told my sister.

In-between the waiter asking for our order and returning with it I answer her. "Not yet," and it's the best answer I can give her.

"So you're just packing your stuff and moving out at the end of this week, and you haven't told her?" she asks intrigued.

"Yes," I answer somewhat ashamed before glancing down at my sundae. The chocolate syrup and vanilla ice cream has long since swirled together to create a picture much like my anxiety level. Twisting and turning to create a grotesque picture that's become hard to swallow. Truth be told, it had been nice keeping something to myself. Ever since we were born, being twins and all we shared everything. Keeping something to myself, even if it was more than the fact that I'd been born mere seconds before her- making me the older sibling- was nice. However, my secret was coming crashing down on top of me all too quickly.

"So you're moving to an island called Castaway-"

"Castanet," I corrected her.

"Yeah, sorry- Castanet to pursue your farming dream and yet you haven't told her."

"Yes," I answer again snapping my attention towards Julia.

"This Cat island-"

"Castanet," I correct her with an eye roll.

"This Castanet island is in need of some serious repair and you think you're going to do this alone?"

"Pretty much," I answer honestly.

"I'm still confused as to why though."

"I don't know," I say flailing my arms around in spastic motions. "I just feel like I need to do this," I respond exasperated.

"But you haven't told her about this Cassidy Island?" she asks again.

"Correct," I sigh, throwing myself back against the red booth, not even bothering to correct her on the name of the island.

Slurping ice cream off of her spoon Julia just nods thoughtfully. "Well, I'd suggest that you tell her sooner rather than later," she pauses before adding, "Before she rips that pretty little necklace off of your neck." It comes out a little too viciously and it scares me a little

My breath catches in my throat and I struggle for the words to reply with.

"Oh just go already, I'll pay," Julia says noticing my reaction to what she just said, but there's something more to it all. She sounds annoyed with me, for what I can't imagine.

* * *

**Author's Note: So yup... I hope you guys enjoyed this. Somebody commented on how they liked the last chapter's pace and I just felt really good. However, now I feel like this chapter will have some pace issues so I'm going to be paranoid now... *sighs* Julia isn't related to the SI/IOH Julia. She was originally going to be but then I thought better of it, so she's not. She'll also play a part later in the story because I say so. (After ending the chapter like that there's no way I could just leave her hanging around as a loose cannon).**

**Reviewers:**

**- Chris Shino: Oh my, thank you so much for the review. That seriously made my day :D (However now I feel paranoid that I'm going to mess the pace up... Not your fault, just I'm kind of weird...)**

**- Winter Oak: Thank you for your review it made my day as well :) I can't wait to see how it develops and I hope this continues to be enough mystery (Although after the first go of things, it'll hopefully start being less of a mystery... or maybe it won't. I'm not entirely sure XD)**

**Followers: Ulyss, Winter Oak, xXx Angel-Eyes xXx**

**Thank you so much~! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint :)**

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**I can't believe that you added this to your favorites after only one chapter :D I hope this doesn't disappoint :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own harvest moon**

**As always Reviews are appreciated. Constructive criticism and glowing reviews are beyond welcome. In the mood for flaming? Good luck- this is on your computer screen ;)**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

My head rests on the windowpane of the train as the sun shines through in a weak manner. I readjust my sunglasses before letting myself slip into the past.

"You what?" Angela asked incredulously.

"Bought a farm," I answered weakly wringing my hands.

I had been expecting a furious sister, instead, I got one bouncing in joy.

"Oh my, it's just," she stopped and pulled me into a bone-crushing hug.

After struggling to breath for a minute, I clawed my way out of it. She smiled at me, her hair that she had fussed over earlier had long since returned to it's natural state. Make-up smudged and all, she just continued to grin at me.

"It's just what?" I asked trying to distance myself on the small bed we shared.

"You're always the responsible one," she replied flouncing back onto the unmade yellow sheets dramatically.

"So? Somebody's gotta be," I replied steadily still in shock as to what was happening.

"And you've just done something completely and utterly irresponsible," she responded in jest.

I lifted my eyes from the pink stain that had come from an unfortunate accident involving Kool-Aid and looked at her curiously.

She pounced on me, causing both of us to fall to the floor.

"Ow," I hissed, wincing as I tried to push myself up.

"Ah," she lamented, "You're irresponsibility was short lived."

I made a face before standing up. "So you're not mad?"

"Disappointed maybe, but mad? Nah, never. Especially when I'm not exactly clean either."

I just stared at her waiting for her to explain herself.

"I got offered a job at Tafani," she explained without a prompt. "Turns out Fenwick's daughter-in law's cousin owns the company."

"So what exactly will you be doing?"

"As of right now, I'm not entirely sure. Something with Communications I imagine; that is my degree after all."

I blinked slowly trying to process it all.

"Fifty grand a year, starting pay," taking my hands into hers as she stood up she leaned in, "It was an offer I couldn't refuse."

Then because of all the ridiculousness of it, I snorted. "Figures you'd get a job through Fenwick, you were always a favorite of his."

"Not my fault I can stand up and talk in front of people," she shot back.

I grinned and pulled her in for a hug, "So those romance novels."

She pulled away and with a cheeky grin and retorted, "Hell of a lot better than those awful murder mysteries you read."

"I read novels in dystopian-like settings too," I responded, feigning hurt as I walked to the other side of the bed beginning to tuck the sheets in.

Angela rolled her eyes, "See? I don't even know what that means."

The rest of the week had passed in a blur. Packing everything up had been a chore and a half, including, but not limited to; some choice words and fits of giggles. It had been the most fun I'd had in years, until it all fell down in a crumbling heap. It was late, two days before either of us would never see the end of this town again when it happened.

"Food's here," I called from the door as I payed the delivery boy. He'd been all skin and bones and had been all to excited when I handed him a five as a tip.

I'd taken the pizza box that radiated heat, grateful that the Johnson's weren't home, and walked up the stairs.

Angela was in the bedroom trying to roll up some sort of cloth material. Finishing she stood up with a flourish, only to have it unroll. She sighed in frustration and ran a hand through her unkempt hair.

"Dinner's here," I said showing her the box.

"I'm not deaf," she responded in an agitated tone.

"That's good to hear," I said faking seriousness causing a half-smile to flit across her face.

"Very punny," she snorted before questioning the location of the Diet Coke.

I walked out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards the kitchen with Angela close behind. Stopping at the counter, I set the box down before lifting the lid and retrieving a piece for myself. Watching Angela pour herself a glass of Diet, my thoughts settled on how wrong Julia had been about how Angela would react.

"Julia said me I should've told you sooner," I mentioned in-between bites of cheese and dough leaving it for her to decipher.

"She'd be right," She answered after she took a sip of her drink.

"I'm sorry, I really am," is all I said before taking another bite and leaning farther onto the counter.

She shrugged her shoulders before opening the pizza box's lid. "And I'm sorry I never told you about the job offer."

I smiled at her, but before I could mention the poor red-head that looked like he could use more meat she tacked on an extra sentence.

"However, I can only wonder what else you like to keep secret."

I didn't even blink before responding with a quip, "Okay, so you're right. I thought the guy at Taco Bell was cute- but I didn't want you making a scene."

"Oh god, not that," she hisses into her cup obviously annoyed at my lack of taking her serious. "I was referring to your necklace, the one that you never told me how you got it."

"You know I don't remember," I replied placidly while I continued to finish my piece.

She rolled her eyes before replying again, "I'm sure you don't, but when you do remember-" her voice had reached at tone bordering threatening before Mrs. Johnson called up announcing her family's presence.

I answered back and walked to the bathroom, mumbling some excuse about pizza sauce on my hands. Angela's eyes never left me through the trip across the worn floor. Only once the white bathroom door with chipping paint was between the two of us did I feel relief from her gaze.

I gripped the porcelain sink that was clear of everything but the bear necessities. As I turned my gaze from the rust stain that circled the drain to the mirror, the first thing I laid eyes on was a glint of silver.

I lifted one hand, using my right to balance myself, to the chain. Gripping the pendant, I inspected it in the dim light that filtered through the thick glass window. It was pretty, if you liked the sort of thing. Black and white glittered in the shape of a heart and was set atop a silver key.

The damn thing was a nuisance in all honesty.

I didn't remember how I'd gotten it, no matter what Angela thought. I'd just kind of woken up with it one day and had never taken it off. I'd asked mom and dad about it, but both denied it. I'd always assumed it had been a lie- much like Santa and the Easter Bunny.

However, questions left unanswered had a way of coming back to bite one in the behind. If I couldn't answer my twin's question, the least I could do was show that it wasn't the end of the world if I gave it to somebody else. She'd be bored with it in a week, just like most of her wardrobe that was in storage (A.K.A. Mom's house.)

I twisted the chain in my hand and found no evidence of tarnish.

Must have a protective lacquer, I mused to myself as the sounds of the Johnson's in the kitchen on the first floor echoed through the house.

I knew that I couldn't just leave on a sour note, so threading the chain between my thumb and forefinger I searched for the clasp that I knew was there. However, my memory must have been tainted because it wasn't. So, bent on fixing my relationship with Angela, I grasped it in my hand and yanked. For a flimsy looking chain it held and the charm burned my hand. Quite surprised, I let it go and brought my fingers up for inspection. The charm's key-shaped print was embedded in my hand but the necklace rested as coolly as ever on my neck.

The rest of my stay was held in high tension; me in awe and wonderment and Angela in cold glances and short responses. I didn't even protest when she drove me to the train station. Even if the poor car squealed at every other turn and screeched to a stop. Her good-bye hug was half-hearted at best, but I can't imagine mine was all that better. However, I was mine wasn't due to annoyance.

I awake from my reminiscing when I sense somebody at the door of the compartment. I shift myself out of my slouching position and shrug my shoulders.

Company could do me some good, get me out of my thoughts, I think to myself as I cross my legs before unwittingly crossing them back.

I reposition my hat that had long since gone askew and make no attempts at conversation as the stranger sits across from me. Thankfully, neither does my newfound, albeit solitary companion.

The train starts up again as it leaves the station and we both lurch forward in our seats. It's my second stop on the way towards the city and I still haven't quite gotten the feel of it. I sit up, back rod-straight against the thinly-covered seats.

The air is awkward between the two of us, him managing to stay upright the entirety of the time and me; not so much. He just looks so prim and proper, so I do the most obvious thing- find an escape.

I search through my carry on in hopes of a good book, but find that I grabbed the wrong carpet bag. Instead of my choices of reading, (which are excellent, thank you very much) I find Angela's. I can't even bring myself to feel angry. If she's done this on purpose then it's my fault, if it was an accident, then it's my fault as well. Besides, she's stuck with my choices just as much as I am with hers.

I sigh and close the carpet bag shut. The pale roses seem faded through my sepia-shaded sunglasses as I push it off my lap. It nestles against my thigh comfortably, just as my elbow rests on the bag. I cross and uncross my legs, again, straighten my jacket, and lean forward on my large suitcase before he breaks the silence.

"So where are you going?" he asks in a way that suggests he's curious but wants to come off uninterested.

"Away," I answer pushing myself back against the seat again. Two can play at this game, I think to myself smugly. Not before I dart a glance towards him and back towards the outdoors again. The sun's gone now and heavy rain-laden clouds crawl across the otherwise unmarred sky.

"And where would this away happen to be?" he asks slightly more interested with a twinge of amusement thrown in the mix.

"I could ask you where your away is as well," I answer just as indignant.

The small-talk is a formality in all honesty. Unanswered questions hang above the two of us, each one of them adding weight to our spoken words. Like; what about your sunglasses? It's certainly not sunny outside, in fact fat raindrops are landing on the window right now.

However, even this has a deeper meaning to it. The real question is; are you going to show your face? Take down a wall? Become something more than just an awkward stranger on a train? Perhaps an acquaintance?

I smile inwardly and push my sunglasses farther up the bridge of my nose before turning back from the window. "So where are you heading?"

He laughs airily before replying, "To understand where I'm going one must understand where I came from."

I nod my head concisely in understanding and wait for a continuation of his tale.

"The major library in Teribam, you know of it?"

I snort before I can stop myself, but quickly cover it up with an awkward hacking cough that can't sound healthy. Of course I know of it, it's the only place that had any decent reading material when I was at college. "Yes," I respond carefully.

"I just finished some research their and now I'm heading back to the city to compile my research," he finishes obviously expecting some sort of applause.

I allow myself a half smile as I recognize the olive branch offering- If I give you something, maybe you'll open up. In a split second I decide against it and respond with simple words, "Meeting a boat."

He falters slightly at my lack of words and loses his air of confidence for a second before quickly regaining composure, "So where is this boat heading to?"

"Not here," I respond a little too quickly dropping my head to study the questionable darker-than-the-carpet stains.

"Fair enough," he replies, eyebrows knitted together in a questioning manner.

I keep a straight face to the best of my ability while diving back into Angela's carpet bag that has since come into my possession. The entire time I pray to whatever deity will hear my plea in hopes that she stuffed chocolate in here, and that it hasn't melted.

I feel his gaze on me while I try to stay engrossed in my search and only feel respite when the swoosh of seemingly expensive fabric passes by. It's not until the echo of his footsteps have faded into the distance do I let out a sigh of relief that I hadn't known I had been holding.

My fingers finally grip onto something tangible and I pull out the Hershey's bar. I don't waste time checking for an expiration date, for I have never known Angela to leave chocolate uneaten. To her, that'd practically be considered a sin. I finish unwrapping it part way before taking a bite in an unconventional manner.

Definitely not expired, I think to myself as I relish in the silky taste of my sister's addiction.

However, it's not long until I hear her voice in my head saying, Always eat the bars by snapping off the smaller ones, as I picture her surrounded by an entourage that'd rival one of a Queen Bee.

I shake her from my head and focus on the rain that's now streaming down the windowpane. Forehead pressed up against the glass, my sunglasses press up into my temple. Even so, it just seems rather pointless to remove them. They've become a safety against the world and I'm not entirely sure if I want to remove it.

"Deep breaths", I whisper to myself over and over in a slow antagonizing way that makes the world slow down around me. I'm self-conscious of my heart beating and the blood rushing through my ears, as well as laughter bubbling through the wall behind me. It's a seductive melody that leads me to slow my breaths until darkness and sleep overwhelms me.

I wake up from my unconventional nap with a rude jolt, causing me to almost fall out of my seat. Shaking sleep off, I gather my various degrees of luggage; a black suitcase, a rosebud carpet bag, and a small yet sturdy purse that I loop over my right shoulder.

I stumble slightly throughout the train's carriage and wonder how I'm going to be after the boat. However, the thought quickly leaves my mind and I'm standing in a line with a variety of other people who're waiting to get off as well.

I hand the portly guard my ticket to prove my honesty before stepping around him as he lets me pass through. Farther down, there's another guard, this one more or less resembling a stick, showing people where to exit. So I follow his hand gestures and step off the dry comfort of the train, relishing in the feeling of the cool air.

The morass of people surrounds me as I try to navigate myself to somewhere at least semi-dry. The rain has at least turned into a fine mist compared to the earlier downpour. However, even so, the drop off part of the train station isn't covered, save for an awning that doesn't extend across the entirety of the concrete between the train and the station.

I finally make my way indoors, only to find myself pushing through the people while trying to act like I'm completely and utterly confident. In reality, I'm just trying to find the bathroom and even that's kind of sketchy. I plaster a fake smile on my face, mutter excuse me when need be and find myself in the quiet of a bathroom before long.

It's a single with white-washed walls that haven't been washed in a while by the looks of it. Dingy doesn't even begin to describe the cracked tile or the rust stained sink or even the dust that covers the mirror. I'll admit though my sunglasses keep everything sepia-toned and probably make it look worse than it actually is. However, no matter what the case is, the only thing that I end up doing is run my hands under the water methodically before repositioning my sunglasses on top of my cloche hat.

Sighing, I brace myself for the onslaught of traffic before unlocking the door and stepping out. Hands still wet, I realize that I have no idea as to where I'm heading.

Angela would be disappointed, a small voice nags at the back of my head before I shake it out to the best of my ability.

Looking around I find the sign that signals the way towards the information desk. In multiple languages at that. I inwardly laugh at the thought of me ever learning a new language, I had only ever learned English and that had been more than enough.

On that note, I follow the signs, ducking in and out of the crowd, just trying to find the flow of traffic. I bump into more people than I can count and an endless stream of muttered apologies seems to flow from my mouth.

Finally, I reach the information desk where an older lady that's round around the edges with a bright smile is sitting.

"How can I help you darling?" she asks in a soft-spoken Southern accent.

"Um, I don't know where the docks are," I stutter out trying to form a cohesive thought through her overwhelmingly optimistic aura.

She smiles even more so, if that's possible before turning around and barking out the question to somebody in the back. It scares me how rough her voice can go in a split second, so I grip my luggage tighter to my side. She huffs an annoyed sigh before turning around to confront the voice that's hidden in the back.

A ginger with lipstick too red for her complexion and disheveled hair, walks out from the back. "So you're the one that wants to know where the docks are?" she asks in between blowing a bubble of gum. It's one of the incessant fruity kinds that overpowers everything else and only makes her presence that much more noticeable.

"Yes," I elongate as I recognize her voice as the one that answered the overly optimistic, yet easily irritated front-desk receptionist.

Her eyes light up at that and in turn she leans across the dark gray counter. "Really? Like, where are you heading?"

I think of a thousands lies and of course, the truth, but end up settling somewhere in the middle. "An island," I respond not entirely sure why she's so curious.

"Oh really? 'Cause like, I've always wanted to go to an island, but like somewhere warm, ya know? I had a friend who like, visited one for like a week. Said it wasn't for her, moved like back or something. I don't really remember, mostly because like me and her stopped talking. Can't remember for the life of me why, but ya know? Things happen. Anyway, it was the darndest thing. She and I had the same name. Mary! It's such a like bland name, ya know? Which reminds me, like my workmate, the one getting you the information, ya know? Her name's like Marcia, it's like the strangest thing. Like, a Marcia and a Mary, both with ginger hair at that! She's like more or less brunette though," Mary kept going on and on talking a mile a minute as I tried to keep up. Her improper grammar was enough to give me a coronary and if it wasn't for who I now knew as Marcia coming to cut her off, I don't believe I would have survived.

"Marie, dearie, leave the poor gal alone," Marcia cut in as she came up beside Mary.

"It's Mary!" the younger girl scoffs while rolling her eyes.

"Well, yes, of course, I'm sorry, but I believe there was a ca-" the older woman never got to finish her sentence while she signaled a phone call for Mary.

"Bye Island girl!" Mary called as she turned away with a flip of her hair and headed into the back.

"I'm sorry dearie, really truly sorry, but here you go," Marcia says as she slides the brochure, map included, across the counter towards me.

I skim through it for a couple of seconds seeing as nobody else seems worried about information, just more or less where they're going. A realization suddenly dawns on me, "It's fine," I begin as a continuation of the conversation that Marcia had started, "I never heard a phone ring," I end rather bluntly.

She looks up from something she's sorting and just smiles a smile that reaches her eyes.

On a sudden impulse, I tell her my name like it's a life or death secret, "My name's Angela."

"And mine's Marina," she replies hand out as a sign to shake it.

I reciprocate the offering and lean in "So it's not Marcia?"

"Never," she responds as I proceed to lean out. The sparkle continues to stay in her eye, and I know that Mary has certainly met her match.

I turn to go, finding the exit by following the crowd this time. All the while reveling in the intricate designs that adorn massive pillars holding up the station. Sooner than I anticipated, I find myself in the revolving doors leading out towards a busy street. Beyond that is the wharf and a cool breeze almost knocks me back into someone. I mutter another apology, but they barely glance at me to make it seem worth the time. I shrug it off before stepping down the wide stairs that are well worn. I wave my way through traffic, well versed due to my time spent around the university, before walking up and down the sodden docks trying to find my boat.

"Miss, what are you looking for?" a sun-tanned stranger asks as he steps off of a boat.

"A boat," I deadpan too quickly before realizing the stupidity of what I've just said.

"Well, I believe you've come to the right place," he says with a laugh as he sweeps his hands from side to side showing off the extent of what I've apparently come looking for.

"Nonono," I slur my words together trying to cover up my idiocracy that I let slip through my lips. "You see there's supposed to be a ferry of sorts that I'm meeting to take me to Castanet Island," I finish exasperated along with a slight blush tinging my cheeks.

"Oh, you're the one that Pascal was referring to this morning," he says in a perfectly cheery disposition.

"Uh, yeah," I mumble as I try and find the ticket that's lodged somewhere in my one of my plaid jacket's numerous pockets. I finally find it and straighten the inked paper into a smoother state.

Taking it from me, he smiles genuinely, and I can't help but feel slightly calmer about the whole ordeal.

"Hey, Pascal," he calls and an elderly man emerges from the depths of the small blue and tan boat.

I'm skeptical at the whole legitimateness of this, and who wouldn't be? There's no wording along the side of the boat connecting it to Castanet in any way shape or form. However, when the older half hobbles, half walks down the ramp connected to the dock with the letter signed by the Mayor of the Island, my mind is quickly relieved of concern. The signature is the same as the one on my ticket and the one on the letter that had been sent to me confirming my purchase of the land.

I hand Pascal my ticket and as I reach down to grab my bags, I'm met with resistance from both Pascal and the younger male.

"Danny'll get your bags," Pascal orders in a soft but firm tone.

"I'll get it," Danny offers up with his signature smile at the same time Pascal orders him to.

I stop from leaning down and instead straighten myself up as Danny grabs my suitcases handle and my carry on.

"Thanks," I whisper as I readjust my purse.

He looks up and for the first time I noticed his dark brown eyes.

"Ah, it's no problem. Couldn't have a pretty girl like you working too hard," he flirts and adds a wink at the end of his sentence.

I find no point in mentioning the fact that I'm going to be a farmer. Although, that's mostly because I can't think straight. After what I've been through this week with Molly, my necklace, and everything else, I now I have somebody very obviously flirting with me. I'm not really sure what to do about it all, but in the end I decide to join them on the boat in the fading sunlight of day.

* * *

**Author's Note: I wrote a beautiful note here and then accidentally clicked off and it got deleted *sadface* Moving on, this should be the last of the OC's introduced. I say should be, mostly because they weren't going to be included in the first place XD But, my fellow writers understand~ Things happen while you're writing and OC's just happened to be what happened in mine. The OC's will play a some-what important part, so I didn't create them for the fun of it just to have them disappear. Moving on from OC's~ YAY! We have characters from Animal Parade besides Molly and Angela. Two to be exact, Pascal and someone else that I hope you can figure out. Leave your guesses in reviews :) Speaking of Angela, there's a reason why she flipped a switch, but that's for a later date. MWAHAHAHA You can leave your guesses in the review as to why if you so please as well.**

**Reviews:**

**- Chris Shino: I also wrote you a giant reply and it disappeared when I accidentally clicked off as well... *Even bigger Sadface* Okay, moving on to something besides my face that continues to elongate. Your reviews make my day :D I appreciate your Constructive Criticism to the highest degree. Okay, time to clear up some confusion from the last chapter. You're absolutely right, Romance novels and Agriculture have nothing to do with each other. That's why Angela reads them, and not Molly. Molly reads Mysteries and Dystopian novels for fun, just because she enjoys reading them. I mean, I understand your point about the agriculture books, however, she likes agriculture because she can get close to nature. She reads those books for fun, not to get close to nature. So she was mad when her sister switched out her books that she enjoys to Romance novels. Romance novels aren't necessarily the most plot-twisting type of read, and that's why she doesn't like them. Especially when she's an English Major and understands what a good book is. Why her sister switched the books out? I don't know, you'll have to ask Angela. It could be anything from the fact that there wasn't room in the trunk and wanted to make sure she didn't go without, or it could just be she was pulling a prank on her "older" sister. Oh, the whole Julia thing- hahahaha, that's my favorite. You'll see soon enough about why Julia mentioned the necklace. Now on to the necklace, as you can see, the necklace kind of played an important part in this story. Keep in mind, that this story is about what Molly does with the necklace, not about finding it. Finally, thank you again for the review/constructive criticism. How else am I supposed to get better at writing? Oh goodness, I hope this was a soon enough post. I've been really busy as of late, and this chapter went through three rewrites. I hope you enjoyed it and that it was worth the wait.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon**

**As always, Reviews are appreciated. Constructive criticism and glowing reviews are beyond welcome. In the mood for flaming? Good luck- this is on the computer screen ;)**


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